Discovering Bravery
by Remi Femble
Summary: He may be an average guy, with average strength and average...everything. But this guy has one thing that makes him more heroic than almost every hero in the world. His heart! What created the ever popular hero without powers? A cursed childhood? tragedy? a chicken marrying a goat? Regardless, discover the early days of the most heroic hero.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Come at me bro!" I mean there is no really smooth way to enter into a scene, but why not roll right into the world with an overused battle cry of drunken frat boys and muscle bound beasts as they drown themselves in "Creatine" and "bulk-up" products. Enter a cosmic douchebag of the postmodern world, a 6 foot 6 giant with 20 inch biceps and a tank top so intentionally tight you are forced to question the man's sexuality and the basis of his mental status. "I am here to steal your money, and your wife!" the big lug started flexing profusely as he leaned toward the storeowner's wife. Yeah, this story does not begin with a hero, or even a fancy accident, or even some love born vendetta, but simply a weird incident involving a guy looking to score…and score.

"Here...take it." The shopkeeper held out a small bag full of money, it was a measly sum, so measly that the callous tool-bag barely even took notice as he without taking his eyes and extended lips searching for a kiss from the destressed damsel off his target as grabbed the bag with a silly flexed pose.

"Come on baby! Give Big Rhino a kiss!" He leaned in hard to gain tasty kiss on the lips of the woman. His sloppy advances caused her to faint as he with his eyes closed slammed his head into the wall, breaking several of his teeth. "AHHHHH! MY TEETH!" he said in muffled voice as he, still while flexing as hard as he could. Tears started rolling down his face as he jittered about the store. "WHAT THE HELL, MY TEETH!" he pulled his hands back and looked into the window glass to see his jagged reflection. He then smashed the window as he was unpleased with the visual the glass displayed.

"Serves you right." The shop keep muttered under his breath in slightly too loud a voice to where the vascular giant could still hear. He gaze shifted hard with eyes ablaze. He trotted over and pushed the man against the wall. "What did you say, BITCH!" he said intentionally annunciating extra syllables in order to spray blood dripping from his mouth on the poor guys face.

"Well…" the keeper suddenly grew bold. "I mean come on if you were using that much force to try and kiss my wife then I think you should have seen something like this coming. Besides what's with the skin tight shirt, it seems impractical for winter." Rather than take reflection of stock of the situation and notice his own responsibility at the issue of his teeth, the giant simply grunted as a wild boar flailing in mud during mating season, and then clenched his right fist with every bit of strength his protein-powered arms could produce.

"I'm gonna treat you like a red-headed stepchild!" the beast angrily spewed as he began to do what every failure as a villain does in the middle of any heinous act, relish in it.

"So you're going to ignore me?" The words further enraged the moronic narcissist. The time had come and he went for the right hook. The shopkeeper's shirt tore off right at that moment and he dropped to the floor at just the right moment to avoid the punch.

"CRASH!" the giant crushed his hand into the wall. Blood shot forth from his hand and his crushed fingers sent signals of extreme pain rushing into his brain. His eyes burst forth in agony as the beast's juiced body took a few seconds to acknowledge and register the pain. It seems steroid and muscle milk does more than just build a body it also shrinks the mind. "AHHH MY HAND! MY HAND!"

"Would you like a towel for that hand of yours?" the employee said with no emotion as his assailant jumped about in a frantic panic of "OWHIES." The big guy used the shirt still in his hand to begin bandaging his hand up in a version of homeless style triage. "Oh look, now we match!" the shopkeeper said noticing the fact that with his top shirt removed, both of them were in skin-clad tank tops. The giant was getting frustrated with the situation, three of his teeth were in the wall, his right hand was smashed to bits, and he was barely holding a bounty of 1000 yen. He realized that this was a futile errand at this point and knew he needed to get out of their while he was still free and breathing.

"I'll be back for you BITCH!" he exclaimed while pointing wildly at the man. As he pointed there was an awkward pause…until the exit sign above the door crashed atop his head creating a solid knot on the big guy's forehead.

"Oh I've been meaning to tighten that sign." The clerk said as the giant just wallowed in awkward humiliation at his uncanny bad luck in this robbery. Despite all of these failures and pain, he was still pleased to get the money and make out free and clear…except for many new bruises and scars. He turned around quickly and pushed the door with as much force as he could muster to escape the den of atrocious luck still in one piece. As he exited the store the clerk still feeling oddly emboldened figured he give one final snarky remark to the injured beast. "See you next sir!" he called as the door closed behind the huge man. The words stuck into his ears like daggers of insults, and the man was sent further into a fiery rage so hot steam could be seen pouring forth from his ears. He flexed further to the point any normal person would force a coronary artery to burst from the pressure as he turned around. Now, it was personal and he was not about to give up conquering that store and the snarky man inside.

"WATCH OUT!" a loud call could be heard all the way down the busy street as the big man blinded by rage failed to hear the desperate call…or simply believed it to be in reference to his own prowess and not that he was in any way under some form of duress. Seriously, has the world ever produce a more thickheaded numbskull.

"SMACK!" the cyclist crashed into the man with full force flattening the guy completely and knocking him unconscious in the process. This was the completion of his unfortunate luck as an innocent bystander failed to swerve out of his way and bull-dozed him to the ground with his bike. As he lay unconscious on the floor the cyclist shook off the fall as he was thrown from the bike in the crash.

"Thank goodness for protective wear." He said as he arose to his feet. His dress was nothing fancy, it was clear he was a bike courier, a person who ferried important documents and small gifts across town. Thanks to his protective green helmet and elbow and kneepads he was able to arise from the crash fairly easily, unlike the knocked out cold injured gym rat bleeding on the pavement.

From all the commotion a small crowd had surrounded the bike wreck. The shop keeper had emerged and grabbed from the downed fiend the contents he had stolen moments earlier. "Thank you Rider, you're a hero!" the rider was confused as he arose and picked up his bike expecting to have to hustle off to avoid being yelled at by an angry group of onlookers for crashing into the chap. Instead, he was being treated like the newly open heroes of the hero association in the cities. His cheeks turned bright red and he decided to roll with it, despite knowing it was merely an accident. Sure, he always wanted to be a hero, what kid didn't? However, he was not super strong, or agile, or wise. He was just a college dropout who was a courier, what could he offer as a hero? However, the small group was taking to him as they marveled as he took down the big guy. The cops arrived on the scene soon after as the crowd was cooling down, they got the big guy in cuffs and took him to jail. Yet, before everyone cleared off the lead officer came over the young courier and shook his hand.

"You know, it's not every day I get to meet a real hero. Thank you, you're an inspiration." The officer said. The rider was ashamed by the whole situation as it was merely an accident. However, he eventually nodded in thanks to the officer. "I guess you're still new to being a hero, just always remember to be someone worth the little ones looking up to." The officer pointed in the direction of a small child smiling at the rider with eyes the size of an ocean. The child clearly thought the rider was the coolest ever and in some way wished to be just like him in the future. This look further embarrassed the rider, as he felt like nothing but a useless courier. The officer went off with the criminal for processing at the station, while the young man sat on the curb next to his bike thinking.

"I can't be a hero, I'm just me…But that kid…the way he looked at me…isn't that worth everything, giving people something to look toward, or believe in?" the thoughts were pounding the young man's head until he finally reached a firm stance. "Even though I'd love to be a hero to these young ones…I HAVE A JOB!" he stood up as he made this statement showing and proving to himself his firm stance on this issue.

"RINNG! RIINGG!" his phone started chiming at that exact moment breaking his focus and pondering. "Hello Boss!" The call was from his courier service office.

"YOU'RE FIRED!" the two words were all that was yelled as the other side disconnected. Shocked at the turn of events the rider looked to the sky as if he felt it was a nudge of destiny toward this path, the path of heroism.

"Well…I guess I'm gonna be a hero." He said with confusion, hope, and excitement in his voice. Sure its not the greatest way for someone to start their journey toward being a hero, but sometimes its about the simple things, and not some crazy experiment gone wrong or a horrible tragic event shaping someone's life to where they want to wear spandex suits and chase crazy people running about naked. He hopped aboard his bike and rode home to plan for tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"HERO ASSOCIATION HEADQUARTERS." The front of the massively tall fortress in the center of City A read. It had been a week since the rider found himself in an accidently situation of heroism that led to the tumultuous twist of unemployment and need. With the meager money from his job he had on hand drying up quickly the young man needed to make a quick change. He heard from around the town that this hero guild paid their heroes based off their deeds from the donations of the people they protect.

"Can we help you?" a young woman asked as the nervous man entered the building after parking his bike at the front door and spending twenty minutes looking for a place to chain it two before settling for the front door itself. "Can we help you sir?" the question caught his attention this time. The inside of the building was so enormous and grand that it was simple for the lad to become distracted by the sight before him. However, upon hearing the question he snapped from his dazed state and began riffling through his pockets as he frantically removed its contents, his wallet, a shoestring, a live gerbil, two coins, a love note from mom, a lollipop, a gangsta rap cd, and then he found the jackpot, a flyer.

"Here! This is why I'm here!" he said proudly as he slapped the flyer on the desk. He smugly thought that the woman behind the desk would recognize him and welcome him with open arms, in the week since the accidently moment that was confused for heroism, the young man had been interviewed by the paper's, gone on a small radio talk show, been given a lifetime pass to the store he "saved" and even noticed a small bit of more attention from the fairer sex. What started as a clearly humble man playing a role was easily warped into believing that he actually was a certified hero with heroic intent in the action. It was evident how in each interview and interaction a bit more confidence and spin became present in the mind of the young courier. By the time he entered that building he truly thought he was a celebrity and that they would be swooning over him as he entered and offer him a major seat at the table. "So young missy, tell the greatest heroes that I am here to join their ranks!" As he said his he placed his hands on his hips and struck a hard pose.

"You and about 400 others today." The woman said without any hush in her voice. The comment instantly dropped the young man to the floor in confusion. Surely, this broad was joking and the whole of the Metropolitan knew of the young rider by now. He was completely confused by the lack of notice displayed by the front desk help.

"You mean 400 people here knew I was coming?" he tried to probe to see if she was jesting with her last comment. She sighed as she began to realize that the man before her was simply a clueless nut ball like most of the others who entered this building seeking to gain rank.

"NO! I mean you and 400 others are here for the hero exam today, it's the only one this quarter of the year. Now if you can take this form and fill it out please, you're holding up the line."

"The line?" the woman pointed behind the young rider as she saw a sea of men who had arrived just after he had; all looked the part as well, either having a large build or giant muscles or visibly having a certain x-factor about them. The young man's jaw dropped as he was pushed aside by the rush of the hopeful heroes grabbing their registration forms one after the other. They all without pause were running about spouting catch phrases and wearing every form of costume they could muster. One by one they filed in to sign up for the trial to join the ranks of the hero association. Eventually the rider shook free from the daze and snagged a form, he wandered over to an open corner and sat to begin filling out the intel the form asked for.

NAME: Murray Mitchell

AGE: 23

WEAKNESSES: None

REASON FOR BECOMING A HERO: _

This last question stumped the rider. It was a simple form, it at this moment didn't ask for an address, social number, blood type, but simply a reason. He felt silly putting the truth that he wanted to be a hero because he needed money. He pondered for a moment….Finally he remembered the way that little boy looked at him when he was first being acknowledged by the public, when he first helped make that arrest, and the boy just looked at him like he himself was hope, was honor, was justice. It was that simple look, along with the recommendation of the police officer he spoke with that set him on the course for arriving here to be a hero. He began filling out the form, then his stomach growled so loud, the whole room of egos and catchphrases went silent. "Fine, I'll put the real reason." He muttered to himself as he wrote down, " _to be able to make a living being a symbol of justice."_ He was proud at his phrasing of the answer as he proudly handed in the form.

"Thank you, here is your number." The receptionist handed the man a number bib, #464. He awkwardly put it on proudly and shrugged as he sat back down waiting for the commencement of the test. Most folks here came with something of a sidekick or a friend or noticed others that they seemed to naturally fit in with. However, the college dropout seemed to be unable to find a cluster. He wasn't a genius, he wasn't tall, or super strong, he was extraordinarily average in every way.

"Hey come over here." A friendly muffled voice from the chewing of food called. The rider looked up to see a man sitting alone next to a column that seemed to be chewing on a bag of sunflower seeds. The rider went over and sat next to the guy. "So I can see you're just a normal guy like me."

"What of it?" the rider replied trying to keep his voice down afraid to draw attention to his lack of presence. "Does it matter if we aren't superman? Does everyone have to have immense powers of some kind?" the guy started laughing as he continued chewing.

"Well how are you going to pass the tests?" The rider hadn't thought about this, throughout the past week his head had been clouded with his own praise that he failed to understand the nature of the weeding process was a literal series of tests, half mental, half physical. The guy sitting next to him could tell he was nervous. He pulled several leaves from his bag and handed them to the man. "Eat these come the physical test to help you pass, for the mental exam you're on your own." The rider looked at the leaves, he was puzzled as to these plants.

"What is this? How will it help me pass?" Murray asked the man next to him. The man stopped chewing for a moment as he looked at the guy.

"Well this here is a plant that will boost your energy to insane levels. Basically it will give you a quick jolt to be faster, stronger, more agile, and be able to take more damage then you can as of now." The rider once more looked around the room, seeing all the strength and prowess, he knew he wouldn't stick out among the group, but he wasn't interested in becoming a hero dishonestly, the notion at the door was starting to fade the mental façade of heroism he brewed up over the week of interviews and praise, and reality was starting to touch down, that he was in fact a fraud. However, he was here to prove the little boy and himself right, that he was a hero. He motioned to give the leaves back. "No! NO! Take it! They're yours in case you need a push." The man spoke as he quickly ended the conversation and began talking to another person.

"Well let's keep it just in case we feel we need it after the mental exam." Murray said softly as he tucked the leaves into his pockets. The last of the men was being checked in and all knew the exams were soon to begin.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

The doors flew open and out came a little man in a white lab coat. "Alright everyone." He said in a droopy nerdy voice. "Inside we will test you first on your physical skills and then afterward we will test your heroic nature with a written test. Please go right this way to complete the physical test."

Thunder seemed to strike as instantly everyone in the room went from talking up a storm and feeling each other's muscles in a highly curious manner to running over the little man toward the challenges. There were five events in total for which they scouted the heroes and after finished they would go in with a group to take the written exam. Everyone bolted to the physical even they knew they'd score best in with absolute haste and shoving. As the dust cleared and the grunting and panting started as they all began showing off. Murray was left behind starring at the little man covered in foot prints and smashed into the pavement.

"Are you okay sir?" he asked as he helped pick the man up off the ground.

"Absolutely." He said as he shook off the dust. "Just getting my once a week instant massage by trampling." The little man seemed rather un-phased and walked into the testing area. Murray followed slowly. In the room were the 470 applicants for this trial doing their 5 tests in hopes of scoring as close to a perfect 50 on this section as possible. The tests were a deadlift test, a vertical jump, a punching machine, wack-a-mole, and a 1500 meter run. Murray knew he really did not possess much if any physical ability so he was not really concerned with scoring well here, but planned to score all he could and rely on getting a passing overall 70 score from the written exam. " _Guess I'll do the punching machine first."_ Murray figured.

As he walked over to it jocks and would be heroes were lined up to smash with one punch as hard as they could into this machine which would rate the power on a scale of 0-10. "ALRIGHT! WATCH ME GUYS!" a big brute said as he reared up and

"CRUNCH!" the sound could be heard all around. "AHHHHHH!" the pain welled over and made the man's face bright red as he realized he forgot to clench his hand correctly and broke all his knuckles on the machine.

"Congrats #405 you have scored a 5 out of 10." The grader at the station said. The number did not help appease the man who was sitting in corner blowing on his damaged hand, which was red and pulsing.

"Wow that's a tough machine." Murrary said trying to make conversation with the man in front of him.  
"Well I'll DESTROY IT WITH MY PINKY!" a big blowhard turned around and yelled into Murray's face spewing spit and obscenely foul breath. Murrary waved the stink away from his as the man still was starring at him.

"You must be really powerful to be so confident friend." The rider was trying to be friendly despite the assault to his nose.

"WELL! I am the original MAN BEAST from the city outskirts. I'm a real snorter and a head-buster. I can outrun, out jump, out swim, out shoot, out fish, out drink, out dance, out eat, out…"

"Out talk?"

"YEAH! Out talk, out cation, out fight anybody in the entire city limits all around." The man hollered about.

"SIR its your turn!" the grader as the man swerved around and went up the to machine. "POW!" the man was true to his words and punched true with one pinky. Of course it fully smashed the finger into his arm all the way, but the blowhard stuck to his word and was thoroughly ignoring the pain. The machine in front of him showed an 8 to which he began complaining for a moment while Murray laughed at his foolishness.

It was his turn though he went up to the machine, winded up his right arm and socked through. 1. "Shit!" the score was almost as bad as if he had not thrown a punch at all. Murrary was not as scared though he knew this part would be rough and all he needed was 20 out the 50 physical points to pass, assuming he could demolish the written test.

Next up he went over to the whack- a-mole, hoping to land a couple of easy points. He waited in line and once his turn he went up and worked as quick as he could bashing each left and right. The game started easy, he passed the first 4 levels without a problem securing 4 points, then the speed amplified, moles where popping faster than his brain could tell his mind to whack them. GAME OVER, the screen read and Murray had another 4 points. " _Alright I need at least another 15 points."_ He thought as he went over to the vertical jump.

At the vertical jump he did his absolute best and pushed off his legs with every bit of power he had yelling as he went airborne, only to hear a "1," as he landed. The verdict really frustrated him as he was seriously needing to score points to move on.

Things were getting desperate as he went over to the deadlift, he needed a miracle. The deadlift tested with a series of 10 bar-bells, each heavier than the last, if you picked up one you moved down to the next one, if you failed to lift one you were done. Because of this method this event tested rather quicker than many other ones, as multiple applicants could test at once. The man in front of the distraught rider was super strong, and lifted the first with extreme ease and slammed the weights to the ground after a full lift. It was Murray's turn. He knew he was relatively weak here as well and so to help him avoid feeling embarrassed as he grabbed the weights, he shut his eyes. "SLAM!" the man in front of Murray slammed the weight so hard to the ground that the lighter weight Murray grabbed lifted above his head. As it touched back down Murray was rather surprised at his own strength and was a little confused but he needed the points so he just moved down and once more shut his eyes. The man one rung down once again slammed his weights and forced the bar Murray grabbed over his head and back down as Murray was tugging on it. This process repeated the entire way through the 9th bar as the man in front of Murray was now finished. The rider now on number 10 tugged and pulled and tugged all he could until he broke a hard sweat and knew he was done.

"Number 464, 9 points." The rider wiped the sweat off his brow feeling so relieved and better as went into the final even the 1500-meter dash.

"Alright I need at least 5 points here to give myself a chance he thought as he rared up his legs at the starting chalks. As he placed his feet he kicked up a fair amount of dust to the guy behind him a rather large fellow who began huffing and huffing immediately. Murray was on the line and tilted his head up, ready to run.

"GO!"

"AHHH-CHOO!" the man behind the rider on the chalk left out a bellowing, room shaking sneeze that sent a wave of snot filled air at the rider sending him flying all the way across the complex to the end of the race strip into the wall.

"BAM!" the rider was dazed as he struck the wall with full force.

"MY God boy! That is a new record time!" the grader at the end said as he pulled Murray off the wall to shake his hand.

"Hooray!" Murray was either to dazed from smashing into the wall, or knowingly needed the points to give himself a chance in the written test to pass. Regardless he received a 10 on the dash, giving him a grand physical total of 25. " _Well I got half the points."_ He thought to himself as he headed into the written test, while was visibly suffering a concussion he as they gave the instructions of the test his mind went into full autopilot and without any trouble the college dropout finished the test quickly and went to wait in the locker room for the result packet.

He showered off and did his best to avoid all the bullies and jerks still roaming about, huffing about how they thought the machines were rigged. Murray simply got a towel and wrapped it around three ice packs and put it on his head. "Should have worn my helmet." He said softly as a small man with packets entered the room. One by one he called out a number and found the man until he called for number 464. Murray raised his hand as he lay down on a locker room bench. He took the envelop and quickly opened it up.

Physical 25/50

Written 48/50

Total 73/100

Hero class C

"Holy cow!" the dazed young man thought, "I passed!" Much of the day was still a fog from the head injury he sustained from the sneeze that sent him a mile, but all Murray Mitchell knew was that he had a job again, and that was a good enough start.

_AUTHOR'S NOTE_

i hope you guys are having fun with this and able to see the comedic moments. One thing i always loved about Mumen in the show was that he always had the weirdest luck into things and i hope the story is showing that. it of course doesn't change his heroism and bravery and i plan to show that all while still being silly along the way. please share your thoughts :)


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